It's My Life
by D3monite
Summary: After the unpredictable events at Helgen, all Alena wants to do is spend her days in peace. But, when she is approached by the Dark Brotherhood on her way to Whiterun, she has no choice but to choose what kind of life she truly wants to live. F/F


**This is my first story, so please be kind. :3**

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The Sleeping Giant Inn of Riverwood held only four others within its log and plank walls; all warmed by the fire gently glowing below the cooking spit as we kept to ourselves, safely hidden away in our own thoughts.

I kept myself alone but in comfort of my mug of Nord mead, swallowed into the dark by my memories of the unpredictable events at Helgen. Mere hours ago my life was on the brink of ending with one drop of an executor's blade, yet instead of my head sharing a basket with another my life was spared by the appearance of a beast. A dragon as black as night was to be my saviour at that time, but for others it was their own death as they were helplessly burned alive or buried beneath the rubble of stone walls. The stench of burning flesh still lingered in my nose, and the crackling of the fire beside me was only making it harder to forget.

The only movement came from the bartender, Orgnar, who begrudgedly kept sweeping the stone floors littered with fur rugs of dirt and dust that made its way in from tired or thirsty travelers. The bard, who's name still escapes me, had settled himself in the back of the Inn with his flute in hand, playing a soft and almost eerie melody that strangely could not escape my ears.

My eyes stared into the empty bottles before me, tipped onto their side for droplets of liquor to fall into tiny puddles on the old wooden bench, or still standing proudly as they were unopened with cold mead awaiting inside for me to devour in haste to leave my memories into oblivion.

I wondered how my life had ever gotten to this point; to where I found myself cowering in the walls of an almost bare Inn. I missed the life I once had. With my father by my side as he taught me the life of a hunter, sleeping away the cold nights beside an open flame below the starry sky as the sounds of nature sang like a lullaby to me asleep. Tonight I feared will be the first of terrors awaiting me in my dreams, images of burning corpses dancing in front of my eyes.

At this moment I remember when Alvor, the blacksmith not twenty paces down from this sleepy Inn, asked of me to approach the Jarl of Whiterun about the matter at Helgen. To warn him of the dangers that so many others had already faced and lost against. The safety of those people within those walls were in my hands yet I felt no will to move; sleep was taking hold of me and the mead had settled itself into my system as I welcomed it with open arms. But maybe the cold wind of Skyrim will keep me awake just for tonight, for I had no desire to face my dreams so soon anyway.

Raising myself up and back over the bench I took a moment to regain my balance. A wave of dizziness had taken over but with a soft shake of my head it started to dim. With one last swig of my mug, making sure to get the very last drop, and feeling the liquid burning as it made its way down my throat, I slapped it back on the table and wiped my mouth with the back of my shaky hand. Without a second thought I slipped through the gap between an empty chair and the wooden pillar to make way for the door, until a deep voice stopped me in my path.

"Leaving this late, Alena?"

I turned my head to the side, my eyes open barley as slits as the liquor took hold of me. Orgnar had stood in front of the counter with broom stick in hand, a worried and concerned expression was on his face.

"Room is only 10 gold, you know," he persuaded, "it wouldn't hurt to stay in for the night."

I wasn't sure if he was genuinely concerned about my well-being or if he was taking advantage of my state to scam more gold out of me. Either way, I had already left the comfort of my mead to embrace the cold outside, once my mind has been made it would take more than these few words to back down.

I gently cleared my throat, not sure if I could trust my voice, "Thank you, but I need to be going."

Not looking back to the man or bench of Nord mead that beckoned and called my name, I forced myself to open the creaky, wooden door and stepped out into the cold night.

Immediately I recognised the sound of crickets chirping from all around me as I stopped on the balcony, the door gently closed behind me as it put a barrier between comfort and cold. The sky was covered in grey clouds, hiding the twinkling stars that would light my way, but the torches from patrolling guards was enough to illuminate the cobble path before me.

I noticed one lone chicken stood in the centre of the path, pecking between the cracks as she desperately searched for food. Placing a hand on my stomach as it rumbled I released that I spent so much septim on mead alone that I never thought about the need for food myself.

With a groan of annoyance at my stupidity I forced one foot in front of the other as I made my way to the bottom of the groaning wooden steps, but the moment my foot met with soil I stopped in place. I felt a small drop of water fall on my head, followed by another, and another. It trickled down my hair to the side of my face which I awkwardly swept away with my numb hand. It was starting to rain.

_By the Gods, could this be any worse?_

Without warning the few delicate drops falling from the heavens soon quickly formed into a shower that drenched me within mere seconds. I scowled in the night as I angrily huddled my clothes tighter to my skin in a desperate attempt to conserve heat in my body. The stubborn Nord in me couldn't bear the thought of turning back in, the look on the man's face as he'd see me walk through the door in defeat was enough to keep me at bay. I kept this position up along the path out of Riverwood to Whiterun, over the bridge hanging over the churning waters of the river and atop the hill that overlooked the walls of my journeys' end.

But of course getting there without trouble would have been too kind.

As I stood alone, in the midst of the tall, swaying trees of the sparse forest I felt something awaken inside of me, telling me that something was wrong. The wind started to pick up, making the rain pound harder onto my body and into my eyes, I tried to shield them from the drops with my hand as I looked around my perimeter in paranoia. The only sound was from the rustling trees and howling wind, even the crickets were long gone back in Riverwood and not even a lone wolf howled far in the distance. Nothing was around me that I could see but I could _feel _them. I know someone or something was hidden within the trees, watching me.

Not taking the chance to stay still any longer I quickened my pace as I maneuvered down the steep hill. Slipping and sliding in the soil, trying to avoid the branches and rocks in my path until I reached the near bottom. With a final jump down from an over hanging rock I managed to land safely on flat ground in a crouched position, spraying water from the flooded soil, but not without scaring away a poor grazing deer whom fled through the trees in haste from my sudden appearance. A startled cry of the animal was followed by the pounding of his hooves along the hard ground, sounding so much like thunder to my ears.

My breath was heavy as I looked back behind me, back up to the steep hill where the life-like trees bent and groaned in the fast, unrelentlous wind. With a final exhale of breath to calm my shaky nerves, blaming the liquor in my system for my erratic behaviour, I slowly turned around to head for the hold and return to my objective. But the moment I spun on my heels in the loose dirt I came face to face with a figure. Cloaked in red and black, standing within arms reach of me, not moving. They were so close that I could see their chest rise and fall from each calm breath.

My body tensed and my heart began to pound. This cloaked man, or maybe it was a woman, was not here before nor did I hear any footsteps approaching me. It was like they appeared out of thin air. I became a loss for words as I stared towards the cloaked figure whom in return stood motionless in the cold, dark night. Flashes of lightning painted the sky, closely followed by low rumbles of rolling thunder. I watched the faint mist of breath leave my mouth as I tried to calm my speeding heart and muster my strength to call out to them.

"H-hello?" My eyes squinted from the harsh attacks of the rain as I waited for any sign of life, but they didn't show any.

I only gave them a few brief seconds before I made my move. Not breaking eye contact I began to circle around the figure, in fear they would sneak up on me and attack at any given moment. Until my back was to Whiterun did I stop. I watched as they pivoted slowly to follow my moving body.

Hesitantly I stepped back.

"What's your problem?" I desperately needed answers but of course I expected none from this creepy stranger.

Slowly the figure began to raise their arm. With index finger pointing straight out they held it horizontal to me. What I didn't notice, until they stayed utterly still in that position for so long, was a folded parchment between their index and thumb; soaking in the pouring rain.

No matter how long I stared into the parchment or at the unwavering hand that held it, what I hoped to be a mirage did not disappear. But instead of backing away like I desperately wanted to my legs had a mind of their own and decided to step closer. Once they stopped at the right distance I felt my hand slowly raise to theirs, and watched closely as I made to grab the small, folded letter. However, the moment my fingers came into contact with it, the cloaked figure made their move. Like the wind they fled, back into the trees where I eventually lost sight of them through the blurring curtain of rain.

Taking the opportunity I slipped the parchment away into my back pocket and made haste to the hold. The bizarre encounter slowly started to ebb away from my mind with each step I took as I unconsciously blamed it as one of those 'tales' that were common with drunkard travelers.

After weaving through a few of the hold's dormant farms I met again with the hard cobblestone path. I let my mind wander as my legs took me to the gates, ignoring the gazes from questioning eyes. Whether it was from the horses locked away in the stables, the khajiit safely hidden in their makeshift camp or those guards high up in their towers, I still felt at watch by someone, strangely, evil.

I made it past the main border with ease, but when I thought I could get through without any further delays, I was called out by one of the guards.

"Halt!"

Hesitantly my legs stopped moving. I let my gaze leave the comforting ground to watch the yellow and brown garbed figure approach me, with his torch in hand, from his position by the closed gate.

"City's closed due to dragons about. Official business only."

I let a smirk slowly spread on my lips. It felt strange to me, feeling so confident just now, when not even a moment ago I was scared out of my wits from a figure with no authority to lock me away for the rest of my days like this man can.

"Which is why I am here... I have news of the dragon attack at Helgen."

The man slowly expelled an exasperated huff, and soon stepped aside once his internal decision was made.

"Very well," his gaze was heavy onto mine and I tried to meet it with equal force, "But I'm keeping an eye on you."

I didn't need to be told twice.

Not expecting the guard to open the great doors for me I made myself at home and forced them open without help. After slipping through the small gap I created I let the handles go gently for it to close behind me, finally shutting out the unwanted gazes. Upon setting just one foot inside, my worries and inhibitions seemed to fade away; a small smile managed to creep on my face as I realised this. My first initial thought as I caught sight of the array of buildings and cottages with their beautiful architecture, the white wispy smoke from the urns floating around like mist and the seemingly empty paths through the hold made this place look so calm and welcoming, but solemnly I knew that this could very well change soon enough if I didn't move my arse and get to the Jarl.

But before doing so there was one thing that I needed to do, and I could feel it radiating through the pocket of my pants as if it were begging me to open it. I was under the safety of small cover and no one was to read over my shoulder, not including the guards with their backs to me, so I felt that this was a time as any to see what was so important about this parchment. Reaching into my pocket I slipped out the still wet note and began to unfold it, excited yet hesitant to see what contents it held. And what I saw was certainly not what I expected.

Inside was only two things, the first and most obvious was the large hand print, painted with either war paint or more fearfully blood. It was hardly recognizable as the rain smeared it most definitely but the message was still unclear. And the second, the more stranger than the first, was my name.

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**Any criticism is welcome.**


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